


Invisible Roskva

by Northern_Lady



Series: Elves and Asguardians [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Comics), Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Class Differences, Everyone Loves Thor, Friends With Benefits, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, Lust, Master/Servant, Physical Punishment, even when they think they hate him, it's a story don't take it too seriously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-07
Updated: 2016-04-07
Packaged: 2018-05-31 20:34:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6486514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Northern_Lady/pseuds/Northern_Lady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In Norse Mythology Thjalfi and Roskva are brother and sister servants (possibly elf servants) of the god Thor. That is the only element true to the mythology in this story. The rest is my own take on how Roskva feels about Thor, her master. One shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Invisible Roskva

Now that Thor has returned to Asgard from Midgard, I will be expected to resume my duties serving him. I had rather enjoyed the long holiday while he was gone. His journeys away from Asgard are a welcome relief. I get tired of fetching things and cleaning up his messes all day long. The work might not be so bad if not for the fact that he is the most unthankful ungrateful man I have ever had the displeasure of knowing. I know I am only a servant. As such, I do not expect to have much recognition from my master, but Thor does not even see me. I am not sure that after all these years he even knows my name. 

I make my way to his rooms feeling melancholy. I want to go back to my tiny bedroom and read my books. I do not want to spend another day under the shadow of his arrogance. I knock on the door to his chambers and he wrenches the door open. 

“You sent for me my lord.” I say, head bowed as expected. 

For a moment he looks confused and I realize it was probably Frigga who sent me to him because Thor would not even remember that I exist to send for in the first place. 

“Right. Of course. Come in.” He says. 

I am familiar with the routine. I gather up the dirty linens, make the bed, open the drapes, sweep the floor, carry out the linens, carry back a meal, and the rest might vary depending on his plans for the day. 

“Where is your brother? Thjalfi he was called?” Thor asked. 

I am surprised that he remembers my brother’s name. “He was killed by wolves, my lord.” I tell him and do my best to hide my anger. I do not remind Thor that he was there when my brother died. If he doesn’t remember it then what would be the point? 

“Forgive me, I should have remembered that.” Thor says. “He was a good fighter for an elf.” 

I bite back the words on the tip of my tongue. They are words that would not be appropriate for a servant to say out loud. For an elf? Does he truly think us all so inferior? I open the drapes and begin to sweep the floor without a word. When I have finished my tasks in the room, I carry out the linens and leave them at the launder. Then I go to the kitchen to retrieve his tray of food. 

The kitchen maids and serving boys are running about the kitchen in a flurry. Gartnar, the headmistress notices me standing in the doorway. “It’s over there!” She points to a covered tray on the countertop. “Take it and get a move-on! We have a feast to prepare!” 

Right. Thor will be getting a welcome home feast today. His returns are always followed by a feast. I make my way between the people scurrying about in the kitchen, take the tray, and almost make it out the door when a serving boy carrying a large load of firewood crashes into me. The tray and all the contents go crashing to the floor. 

Before I even have time to think about cleaning up the mess Gartnar is there yanking the serving boy to his feet by his arm. She has a wooden cane and she strikes him across the face with it, then on his back and wherever else she can reach before he can escape her all the while shouting, “You imbecile! That was food for the prince you spilled! Watch where you’re going!” 

“It wasn’t his fault.” I say, stunned. I have seen Gartnar beat the servants she is in charge of before. I have been struck myself by her a few times. I should know better than to speak up. 

“If it wasn’t his fault then it was your fault!” She raises her free hand and slaps me in the face with her bare hand. The blow stings and I find it is a struggle to keep my eyes from watering. It is a struggle to remain still and do nothing to retaliate. “Get another tray and get out of here! You can take the rest of your punishment when you return.” 

The rest of my punishment? I take another tray from the counter and make my way out of the room more carefully this time. It isn’t hard to guess what she intends for punishment. She will get her husband Lothr involved. He is known for the harsh beatings he deals out. I have received two of these beatings in my lifetime (both in the past year actually) mine were not as harsh as my brother’s punishments were.. He was unable to attend his duties for four days and it was several weeks before he truly recovered. Lothr tends to get progressively worse with each punishment. He likes to have people fear him. 

By the time I return to Thor’s chambers my hands are shaking in an effort to keep the tray steady. I keep wondering if I can find a way to run away and leave the city. But I know it isn’t possible. There’s nothing for an elf woman to do to support herself in the villages. I would probably just end up starved or raped. I reach Thor’s room and lightly kick the door in place of knocking. He opens the door and then stops short, staring at me. He has never even stopped to look at me before and now he is staring. 

“Who struck you?” He asks and he actually sounds concerned. 

“Gartnar, the kitchen mistress, my lord.” I tell him. My voice feels small and I want to just shrink away. I hadn’t realized that her blow had left a mark on my face. 

“Why would she do that?” He asks, taking the tray out of my hands and moving it to the table himself. 

“Because I spilled the tray of food that was meant for you.” I say. 

“I’m sure it was only an accident. That seems a rather harsh punishment.” He says. 

“Yes, my lord.” I agree. I don’t tell him that my punishment is not ended yet. Years ago some of the servants tried to get Odin to interfere with Lothr’s punishments. Odin put Lothr in a cell for three months, released him having served his time, and promptly forgot all about the matter. Except Lothr didn’t forget. He became worse than ever. His punishments before had left bruises. The new ones left scars, left people bedridden with broken bones. No one dared to ever speak against him again. 

Thor has sat down to eat his breakfast so I move to stand outside the open door of his chambers as is expected of me. If he needs anything he will call to me and I will fetch it for him. When he is finished with his meal I will take the tray and dishes back to the kitchen. He doesn’t always eat in his room. Some days the duties vary greatly. I wish that this was one of those days and that I would have no need to return to the kitchen. 

It is difficult to remain calm as I stand there and wait. I am unable to keep my hands from shaking. As the minutes pass, tears come to my eyes unbidden. I bite my lip to try to make them stop because I am almost sure that Thor can see me from where he sits. I don’t dare turn and find out for sure. 

I hear footsteps approaching down the hall. I look up to see Bryna, one of the serving girls who happens to also be one of my dear friends. She comes to talk with me in spite of my being on duty and in spite of Thor’s open door. 

“I heard what happened.” She tells me with worry in her eyes. “I brought you this. It will make it easier.” Brynna places a vial filled with liquid in my hands. 

“Thank you…” I say, barely able to hold back the tears. I know that she has brought me a tincture that will help dull the pain. It will only last an hour or two but even that is a welcome gift given what is coming. 

Brynna nods and starts to walk away from me. I catch her arm and pull her back. And then I hug her. I don’t care anymore that Thor can see me clinging to my friend and sobbing. I’ve never been so terrified in all my life. I need this. Brynna only stays with me a few minutes. She has duties of her own to attend to and could easily end up in trouble herself if she fails to carry them out. 

When I re-enter Thor’s chambers to take away his tray my eyes are red rimmed from crying and my hands are still shaking. He looks at me with concerned eyes but he says nothing. 

I drink the tincture as I’m approaching the kitchen. It tastes terrible, like the most horrible thing a person could ever taste. Lothr is waiting for me with a club in hand. He is a large man with dark hair and cold blue eyes. 

“Outside.” He says and I follow him out the door at the other end of the kitchen that leads outside because I know I have no choice. 

Brynna’s tincture does it’s job well. Lothr’s blows knock me to the ground from the force of them but the pain is not as bad as I’d expected. Oh it still hurts, hurts worse than anything I’ve ever experienced, but my mind is in a fog and the whole world around me is spinning with a desire to sleep. 

I wake in my room with Brynna sitting over me. I try to move and my whole body rebels with pain. Brynna is washing a cut on my shoulder with a wet rag. I look down at myself and see that I have more bruised skin than I do clear skin. I can’t tell if any bones are broken just yet. 

“What happened?” I ask, barely having the strength to speak. 

“I misled you.” She says. “I’m sorry. The Tincture was meant to make you pass out. I thought if Lothr believed he had knocked you out that he’d stop sooner. It doesn’t look like he did. He just kept hitting you even after you were down.” 

“At least I didn’t have to be awake for it.” I say.

“I think you have broken ribs. Maybe an elbow too. Can you move it?” She asks. 

I try my elbow and only manage a cry of pain. Brynna sighs. “How long have I been asleep?” I ask her. 

“Several hours. Don’t worry about the feast. I’ll take care of your duties.” She says. 

“I can manage.” I say. “I don’t want to let Lothr win. If I stay in bed, he wins.” 

“But you need to recover.:” She protests. 

I bite my lip, sit up, and reach for my dress on the floor. I find that it’s dirty and bloodstained. Brynna gets me a clean dress from among my things and helps me to put on my clothes. Getting dressed is agony. I don’t know how I’ll manage carrying trays and bending to pick items up off of the floor but I will do it somehow. We elves can be stubborn creatures. I refuse to let Lothr get the better of me. I refuse. 

Once my clothes are on I get to my feet and I find that standing still isn’t so bad. Bending forward is a problem because of the pain in my ribs and reaching with my left arm is impossible. I am unable to straighten the arm, but thankfully I am right handed. I have sore bruises all over my body. A few cuts but nothing too visible. 

“Is my face bruised?” I ask Brynna. 

She nods. “He hit you with his club in the same place Gotnar did.” 

I sigh. “Then Thor will probably ask about it.” 

“He’s going to ask about it anyway.” Brynna said. “Your shoulder is bleeding through the fabric of your dress, your elbow is out of place, and you can hardly move without the pain showing on your face. I think you are crazy to try to work like this.” 

“You think I’m crazy all the time.” I say with a smile. 

She smiles too. “Let me at least help you walk back to Thor’s chambers. He was in the practice yard with Lady Sif for the past few hours but he should be back there by now to prepare for the feast.” 

By the time we are halfway to Thor’s chambers I am beginning to think I’ve made a terrible mistake. I shouldn’t be walking. I’m in so much pain that I shouldn’t be alive. I keep going anyway. Brynna stops several times to force me to rest, to try to convince me to go back. All I can think about is the way Lothr cold eyes looked so happy at the prospect of hurting me and I know I have to keep going. I won’t let him win. 

Thor’s chamber door is closed when we reach it. “If I let go of you now will you be able to stay standing?” Brynna asks me. 

“I’ll be fine.” I say. She slowly releases my right arm and lets me take back all the weight she’d been helping to support. Once she has fully let me go and taken a step back she breathes a sigh of relief that I’m still upright. 

“I’ll leave you here… if you’re sure that’s what you want?” Brynna asks. 

“I’ll be fine.” I repeat and she hesitantly walks back the way we had come. 

I knock on Thor’s chamber door and there is no answer. He must still be out with Lady Sif. The only thing to do is to stand and wait for his return. The longer I stand there the worse the pain grows. I find myself leaning against the wall just to keep from falling over. I hear Thor’s approaching footsteps. There’s no mistaking his footsteps. He walks with a confident determination that few men possess. He rounds the corner and catches sight of me and his easy smile fades into a look of concern. He walks a little faster to reach me and I try to move away from the wall. It’s rude to lean against the wall now that he’s here. I push off from the wall with my arms, forgetting momentarily that I can’t actually straighten my left arm. Pain surges through my body and I can feel myself collapsing to the floor. Somehow Thor catches me before I hit the floor. He picks me up, carries me into his chambers, and sets me down on his bed. All I can think about is that I shouldn’t be here on Thor’s bed but I can’t find the strength to move. 

Thor takes a chair and sits down next to the bed. “You will tell me who has done this to you.” He says in a tone that is not to be questioned. 

“It was Lothr, husband of the kitchen mistress.” I tell him. 

“Why?” He continues. 

“It was my punishment.” I say. 

His face registers shock followed by disappointment. “You knew this morning that you were to be punished further?” 

“I did.” I admit. 

“Why did you not tell me?” He asks. 

“I didn’t know you would care to concern yourself with the punishments of servants.” I say. 

He honestly looks a little hurt by my words and I wonder if perhaps I have been wrong about him. 

“Apparently I was not concerned enough.” He says as he reaches over and touches the bruise on my cheek. “If I had been paying attention, I might have prevented this.” Abruptly he gets to his feet. “I am going to the kitchen. I will send you a physician. Do not leave this room.” He says and then he is gone. 

I don’t know how much time passes. I fall asleep on Thor’s bed. I awaken to a healing woman putting salve on my cuts. My left arm is wrapped in a sling. Thor stands at the end of the bed, his arms crossed. 

“She has two broken ribs and a broken arm.” The healing woman is telling him. “She should not be moved very far.” 

“She can stay here until she is well.” Thor says. “I will care for her myself. She has cared for me for many years. It is the least I can do.” 

I can hardly believe what I am hearing. The healing woman looks a little surprised as well. “As you say my lord.” She says as she gathers up her jars and and ointments and leaves us alone. 

Thor goes to sit in his chair at the bedside. “Lothr and Gartnar are in the dungeon. They will never hurt you again.” 

For some reason that even I can’t explain, I burst into tears at this news. I had told myself for years that I didn’t fear Gartnar or Lothr. Their punishments only happened rarely so there was no reason for it to be an ongoing fear. Mostly, if we behaved ourselves there was nothing to worry about. But my relief at knowing they are gone is so great that I realize I have long been much more afraid than I was willing to admit to myself. It hurts to cry though. The movement of trying not to sob is making a stab of pain in my ribs.Thor reaches over and takes my hand and squeezes it gently. He has never touched me before today and yet somehow the gesture is comforting. I am soon able to stop crying but I continue to cling to his hand. 

“I hope you can forgive me.” Thor says sadly. 

“For what?” I say, though my voice is a bit squeaky from crying. 

“For letting this happen. You have served me well for many years Roskva. You never complain and you are never remiss in your duties. When I am away at Midgard I always miss your presence and the way you always anticipate what I will ask for before I can even ask it. I am lost without your help.” Thor tells me and his tone sounds like an honest one. “No one should have ever been permitted to hurt you like this.” 

“You missed me?” I ask, with disbelief and with tears in my eyes. 

He nods. “I have not seen you smile since your brother has been gone. I have missed that too.” 

I hold his hand a little tighter. I don’t want to start crying again. It hurts my ribs too much to cry. 

“Thor?” I hear a voice outside the door which I recognize as Sif. Of course Sif has come to visit. Thor has finally noticed my existence and Sif has come to steal him away. He gets up and goes to the door to speak with her. Thor and Sif have an unusual relationship. Sometimes they are in love, sometimes they hate each other, sometimes they compete with each other in battle, and other times they are best friends. I’m not sure which cycle of their relationship they are currently on. 

“Are you coming to the feast?” I hear her ask him. 

“Soon, I must tend to my servant first.” He says. 

“Tend to your servant? Why?” She asks. 

“Come and see?” He says. 

Sif follows him into the room. Her eyes widen. “Lothr got a little rough this time, I would say.” She stated. 

Thor looked stunned. “You knew about this? About they way Lothr was punishing the servants?” 

“You did not?” She says. 

“Of course I didn’t. I would not have allowed it to continue.” Thor says, offended. 

“His methods may have been harsh but the servants do have to be kept in order somehow.” Sif protests. 

“Roskva has two broken ribs, a broken arm, and multiple bruises. Do you know what she did to warrant that punishment? She spilled a tray of food.” Thor said. 

“Then I suppose she will be more careful next time. Are you coming to the feast or not?” Sif asks. I understand in that moment Sif does not want Thor to stay here with me. That’s why she’s being so heartless about my condition. 

“I will arrive later.” Thor says. Sif leaves the room, angry. 

Thor begins rummaging through his things. I know he is looking for his good cloak, the one he wears to feasts. “It’s in the third drawer on the right.” I say. 

He stops and smiles. “As I said, I am lost without you.” 

I find myself smiling too. When Thor leaves for the feast I sleep again. It is probably the most restful sleep I have had in all the days since my brother died. When I awaken the next time it is as Thor is coming back from the feast. He stumbles a little coming into the room. Great. I hope he isn’t drunk after the feast. He isn’t a frightening drunk. I know this from experience but he might have forgotten why I’m here. 

Then I see that he is carrying an a pile of linens and blankets under one arm and a meal tray with the other hand. He isn’t drunk, he just had too many things to carry. 

“Are you hungry?” He asks, giving me the tray. 

“I am.” I say, when I finally find my voice. I begin to eat and I drink the vial of herbs on the tray that is meant to help dull my pain. I see that he is laying out blankets and pillows on the floor. “What are you doing?” I ask him warily. 

“When I had Volshnar sickness, you and your brother slept on the floor on these chambers for nine days and brought me herbs and ice.” He says. “I will do no less for you.” 

I remember that time well. He had been very ill and in the end I was so tired I had nearly fallen ill myself. Even so, he was the prince and I am only a servant. It isn’t my place to be served by him. It isn’t my place to be alone in his chambers with him. I’ve never been in here with the door closed unless my brother was there too. I want to protest but I can’t find the words to do so without seeming rude and ungrateful. 

“My lord, are you sure it is proper for you to do this?” I finally ask. 

“Sif doesn’t think so.” He says, a little angry with the admission. “But I must do what I believe is right. It is my fault that Lothr was not stopped long ago and you have served me too well to allow me to trust anyone else with your care. It is fitting that I do this.” 

In spite of my embarrassment at the situation, I make no further protests. I allow Thor to help me out of bed so that I can go to the bath chamber. He shuts the door behind me and is still waiting at the door when I come out. I try to walk back to the bed on my own but fail entirely in the effort. He picks me up for the second time that day and carries me to the bed. 

I let my head rest against his shoulder as he carries me and I realize that I don’t hate him or dislike him as I had thought. I hate that he had never seemed to appreciate me or notice me. Some part of me had always admired him as much as everyone else. I just hated that I always seemed to be beneath his notice. That’s clearly not the case anymore and maybe never was. I find that it’s difficult to think clearly when he’s this close to me. He places me on the bed and I find myself clinging to him a little longer than is strictly necessary. He notices and instead of letting me go he sits on the bed and pulls me onto his lap. Now I know this is highly improper. He is leaning against the head of the bed and I am cradled against his chest like an old lover. I should pull away. I really should. But in spite of the pain in my ribs and the fact that a servant has no place in the arms of her king, I don’t have the willpower to move. I wonder for a moment why he is allowing this sort of familiarity and then his hand moves and rests gently against my bruised cheek. Maybe he just wants to comfort me because he feels he is at fault for my being punished. It isn’t his fault. Maybe I should tell him so. 

“It isn’t your fault.” I finally find the courage to say. 

He sighs as if he is relieved to hear me say so. “I am glad that you do not blame me, but I bear the blame nonetheless.” 

I lift my head to look at him. “I would have never considered blaming you for Lothr.” That is the truth. Most of us who are servants have learned to accept life for what it is, bad things and all. We don’t throw around a lot of blame for any of it. 

“What about for your brother?” He asks. 

The question physically hurts. It hurts to think about my brother. For so many years he was my world. It was difficult for me to find the will to live after he was gone. Without meaning to, I start to cry again. Thor looks worried. Perhaps he thinks I do blame him. 

“No not for that either,” I say, “I just miss him. He always kept me safe. He wouldn’t allow Lothr hurt me. Sometimes he took my punishments for me...Lothr never laid a hand on me until after…” 

“Until after he died and you were left unprotected.” Thor said sadly. “I admit I miss him too. I almost expected him to be here when I returned to Asgard.... But clearly you needed him more than I did. I have failed you both. I should have saved him...I very nearly did...and…” 

“I don’t blame you.” I say firmly. 

“Then why did you not seek my help? You have been at my side for years. I trusted you. Why have I not earned your trust?” He asks me.

I am overwhelmed with feelings of guilt at the question. The explanation is simple. He won’t like it but I have to tell him. “I did not want to ask for help because I was bitter and resentful and was unsure if you would want to help.” 

He wrinkles his brow in confusion. 

“I have served you for years, as you say, but in all that time, when have you said thank you? Many days I have done my duties and you did not even acknowledge my presence. I am just a servant, unimportant and insignificant.” I tell him honestly even though I hate to do it. 

He looks a little stunned. “Perhaps there is some truth to that. But you are not insignificant. I will try harder to appreciate the work you do for me if you will try harder to trust me after this.” 

“I will.” I agree. 

We are both silent after that. I am so relaxed against him that I want nothing more than to just stay here forever. Except that the pain in my ribs is growing because of the awkward way I am sitting. I try to shift position but only succeed in hurting myself further, resulting in a cry of pain. 

“I am sorry.” I say. “It hurts to sit like this.” 

He nods, kisses my forehead, then moves to get up from the bed and lets me go. He lies down on the bed he has made for himself on the floor. Thor tosses and turns for a long while. He does not sleep well. He wakes me several times in the night with his stirring. Each time that I find a sleeping position that is somewhat tolerable, he wakes me again with his movements. The fifth time I cry aloud from the pain. 

“Roskva? Are you hurt?” Thor asks from his place on the floor. 

“I will be fine. Perhaps I should return to my own chambers.” I suggest. 

“Why?” He asks. 

“You are not sleeping well my lord, and I can not sleep with all your thrashing about.” I say. 

“Then I will stay awake.” He says. 

Oh, I can not let him do that. I will never sleep if he is watching me. There is only one solution left that he might be willing to accept. “Or you might sleep next to me?” 

“You would not object to that?” He asks me, almost warily. 

“I am tired my lord. I think you are tired as well. I can not object to sleep.” I tell him. 

Thor lies down on the bed next to me and is asleep moments later. Sleep does not come so easily to me. I inch my way a little closer to him so that I am close enough to feel his warmth along my arm. Then sleep finds me. 

When I awaken in the morning I am wrapped up snugly in Thor’s arms. We are lying on our sides facing one another. I do not know how I got here without pain but I have no objections to being here. Far from it. Thor is still asleep. I make no effort to leave this secure embrace. I hope that he sleeps for a long while yet so that I can just stay here. He doesn’t. I soon feel the change in his breathing and know that he is awake. He moves his hand and brushes his fingertips across the tip on my pointed ear. 

“I have never been this close to an elf before.” He says gently. 

“I have never been this close to a prince before.” I tell him. 

His fingers move down my ear, brush across my neck and jawline. Then he stops under my chin and lifts my head just a little so that he can reach to kiss me. The kiss is slow and gentle and lasts a long while. I know enough about kisses to know that this is meant to be comforting. He is still trying to atone for what Lothr did to me. More than that though, because he could not be kissing me like this if he did not at the very least like me a little. I don’t want this kiss to end and for a long while it doesn’t. He stays with me and kisses me for the better part of an hour. It is one of the best hours of my life. It is his growling stomach the finally makes him pull away. The movement of letting me go hurt and though I don’t make a sound this time, he sees the cringe of pain on my face. 

“I will go fetch another vial of herbs.” He tells me and then he is gone. 

I manage to walk myself to the bath chamber. I find a bundle of my clothes left outside the bath chamber. They are tied in a string that I recognize as the same cords that Brynna uses to tie her hair back. I am thankful that my friend thought to bring me clothes. Then I untie the string and my thankfulness fades. She has given me the most lowcut dress I own. The dress had been passed along to me by one of the other maidservants and I had never worn it, save once to try it on. Brynna had been there when I tried it on. 

“You should wear that to serve Prince Thor.” She had joked. “You may think you’re invisible now but you certainly wouldn’t be in that.” 

She had probably been right about that. Even so, I am not comfortable with the idea of showing so much skin. I fold the dress up and set it aside. I will just keep on the clothes I am already wearing. I am just emerging from the bath chamber when Thor returns. He sets aside the trays he is carrying, picks me up and carries me to the bed. I could have managed to walk that distance on my own but I don’t complain. I like being close to him. 

Thor doesn’t leave my side all day. I find I am uncomfortable with being served like this. He brings me food, blankets, herbs for the pain, books to read, and even table games to play. I am so accustomed to doing things for myself and for everyone else that it seems wrong to let the prince of Asgard do so much for me. 

Near evening Sif arrives. “May I speak with you, Thor?” She asks from the doorway. 

He gets up and follows her out into the hallway. 

“When are you going to end this charade?” She asks him. Maybe they don’t realize that I can hear them. 

“I do not not what you are speaking of.” He says. 

“Do not be thick headed! You know exactly what I am speaking of!” Sif says. “Anyone can care for your servant. You could even assign her the best physicians and healers if it helps to clear your conscience. There is no need for you to do this yourself. People are starting to talk.” 

“I doubt that. But I do imagine you are starting to get bored. You told me yourself that no one else can make as interesting a sparring match. I am sorry Sif but I can not allow your boredom to keep me from my duty.” He tells her. 

“If you think this is about duty, you are lying to yourself.” Sif says, angry. 

“I still do not know what you are speaking of.” Thor says firmly. 

“She is a very pretty elf.” Sif says. “You like her.” 

The hallway goes silent. Thor does not answer this accusation. The silence has grown uncomfortable.

“That’s what I thought.” Sif says and I hear her stomp away down the hall. 

Thor re-enters the room and I am quite sure that my cheeks are red with embarrassment. 

“You heard all that?” He asks me on seeing my face. 

“I did. Lady Sif is right.” I say. “Anyone can care for me and people will spread rumors if you do it.” 

“Is that what you prefer? That I send you to the healing woman and back to your own bed.” He asks me. 

I am torn on how to answer him. No matter how I may feel about him, I am still a servant. Thor has loved many women over the years. Perhaps I could be the next one but even if I can be, when it is over I may find myself still serving him. If I let what is happening between us run its course, can I really handle things going back to the way they were after it is over? Can I handle not ever knowing what might happen if I don’t? 

“No.” I finally answer. “I prefer to stay here.” 

He looks relieved, the worry leaves his face. He climbs into the bed next to me and ever so gently pulls me close to him. His kisses are firmer than before but he holds me as if I am glass and might break at any moment. 

I awaken in the morning naked in his arms. I smile to myself remembering the previous night. I have seen Thor wield his hammer in battle. I have seen him kill with his bare hands. I would not have imagined him capable of such tenderness. In spite of my injured state, he had managed to make love to me without hurting me in the least. I let my hand rest against his bare chest as I wait for him to wake up. 

“Roskva?” He says on waking. His fingers brush across my ear again. My ears seem to be a source of fascination for him. “I hope I did not hurt you last night.” 

“Not in the least.” I tell him. And then I kiss him. It is a long while before either of us get out of bed. 

For four days I stay in Thor’s room. I think perhaps he spends more time in bed with me than he does in anything else during that time. I can’t say that I mind. On the fifth day I am feeling much better from my injuries. Many of my bruises are healed. I still have broken bones but they are much more tolerable now. It is late morning and I am dressed and sitting at the small table across from Thor eating breakfast. 

“I think it is time for me to resume my duties.” I say. 

He looks up at me a little surprised. “You are feeling well enough?” He asks.  
“I am feeling much better.” I say. 

“Perhaps you are right.” He says. 

I feel a twinge of disappointment. Once the meal is ended I begin packing up my things to return them to my room and then go back the kitchen to help prepare the next meal. 

“Wait.” He grabs my right arm before I can go out the door. “I fear I have made a grave mistake.” 

My breath catches in my throat at those words. I can’t speak. 

“Sif warned me that this would happen and I did not take her words to heart.” Thor says. “How can I allow you to be my servant again after this? You deserve better than spending your days cleaning up after me.” 

“I don’t mind so much.” I say. “It’s hardly different than how your wife might spend her days.” I say smiling. 

He smiles in return and he lets me go. 

Three days later I find myself in his bed again. One of his council meetings did not go well. He was angry and frustrated and in need of comfort. I do not know that I am in love with him nor is he in love with me. I do not have any expectations of ever marrying him or becoming queen. My ambitions do not reach in that direction and never will. he has made a habit of thanking me for the work I do for him. I am happy about that and I am content with simply not being being invisible any longer.


End file.
